Penance
by Nu Lambda
Summary: To build the bridge to the future, the Hero lays the sins of his past bare. Continuation of The Weighted Veil/Prequel to The Black Mist.
1. prologue, part i

**Penance  
**-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

**DISCLAIMER:** The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.

**Author's Note:** Welcome to the latest installment of Junctioner: Hylianis. Before we begin, I want to take a moment to thank everybody who has given this batch of crazy a chance. Your continued support and interest is not only appreciated, but it is what continues to help fuel the creative fire.

This story is one that I had written many years ago, while I was still in school. Due to many contributing factors, the story has sat and collected dust, idle but not forgotten. The writing was terrible, and the characters were two-dimensional... but the ideas it presented were still worth exploring, even as I look back on it now. However, this isn't simply a rewrite of the original story- it is a complete reimagining.

I have long since surpassed the level of writing present in the original story, and now that I have proven to myself that I can write and finish a story of such girth and magnitude, I feel it's time to give the old story its due. I hope you enjoy this, and if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to drop me a comment/review/PM on the chapter. With that, it's time to get this show on the road.

prologue, part i

Hazy white mist blanketed the shallow waters, obscuring everything in sight. Only the eerie outline of a glowing white hawthorne tree pierced the ever present fog, as did the lone island it was rooted in. It was the only landmark in the endless sea that surrounded it. Beyond the island was a distant group of shallow reeds, which surrounded a hollowed-out log.

On this log sat a lone figure wearing a green tunic, his eyes were closed in concentration as he held a blue ocarina up to his lips. Thick leather gauntlets covered his hands, wrists, and forearms, while only his bare fingers danced across the ocarina's surface. Blond bangs and long sideburns framed his face, while a long pointed cap hung from the back of his head. Leather boots graced his feet and shins, secured only by a pair of buckles just below his knees.

Music filled the air as he tapped his feet in rhythm against the ground, his foot sloshing in the shallow waters around him. The song was one that he had played many times in his existence, both in prayer to his goddesses and in times of need. It carried a timeless essence in its notes, a perserverance that transcended the will of man. His music drowned out the silence that had choked the air up until that point.

As he continued to play the ocarina, a faint sound filled his long pointed ears. Despite the presence that now alerted his senses, he made no move toward it. It was a presence he had come to know all too well. Even as the sound of splashing water filled his ears, he continued to ignore the noise and focused on his music. Just as suddenly as the noise began, it stopped.

He felt a familiar pair of eyes look down on him as he played. The presence that had wandered over to his hiding place was unmistakeable to him. It had been some time since he had last conversed with the young woman his soul had become entwined with. Before, she had been terrified of his presence, unwilling to speak or interact with him. Though the woman's fear of him had died down considerably, he could sense her apprehension toward him.

_Hello, Mireille._

A startled gasp escaped the young woman's lips as she took a step back. She gazed at him with nervous green eyes, uncertainty about him etched into her expression. As she ran her fingers through her long brown locks of hair, she moved them behind her ears. Unlike the green-clad man's ears, hers were small and rounded, like those of a normal human. Like his hat, her hair tumbled down her back, reaching just past her shoulders.

_"Goddammit, Link, why do you have to do that? Why can't you talk to me like a normal person!"_

Even now, the alien language that danced across her lips unnerved her. It was information she had not obtained naturally; it had been transferred to her mind by the man before her so they could understand one another. Before, she had been frightened by the information that had been planted into her mind by Link through their bond. It was one of the myriad factors that lead to her previous animosity towards him.

Up until days ago, young woman believed her soul was being consumed by another. Despite Link's benevolent intentions for the girl, she shut him out of her mind, believing him to be an entity out to destroy every last part of her being. It was not until the intervention of Dr. Phillips, the leader of the survivors of Brume, as well as an encounter with the spirit of the Forest Sage, Saria, did the two of them reach any sort of peace agreement.

The bond she shared with the Hero's spirit frightened her. At first, Mireille had believed herself to be a victim of possession by another spirit and sought to exorcise his soul from her body. In their fighting, Link had shown the fearful woman the painful truth. Their relationship extended beyond mere possession; they were two halves of a whole, tied together by power of the Light of Aetherus.

She straightened her jacket's sleeve. It was of a worn, black denim, while a black tanktop rested underneath it. Hanging from a belt across her waist was a dark leather mini-skirt. A matching pair of boots covered her feet and shins, stopping just below her kneecap. Unlike the straps that secured Link's boots, hers were held together by a small pair of zippers and did not fold over the top. She gazed down at the pointed eared man in an irritated manner.

_What do you mean? This is a perfectly normal way of speaking among my people._

Mireille groaned, feeling her frustration with the man rising. He continued playing his ocarina, his notes rising in intensity with the rhythm of the song. Though he seemed oblivious to her presence, she knew better. She was startled by his use of telepathy at first, but now came to regard it as another aspect of their bond she wanted little to do with. It was a reminder of just how powerful his own spirit was.

_"Most people move their lips when they talk. This is anything but normal and you know it."_

_Is that right?_

An amused tone creeped into Link's words as his fingers danced across the surface of his ocarina. Mireille felt her annoyance begin to rise.

_"Don't just sit there and play your stupid flute! Look at me while I'm talking to you!"_

The Hylian ceased playing the ocarina and opened his eyes. Mireille let out a startled gasp, spooked by his response towards her. Willful blue met nervous green as his gaze pierced her own, baring into her. His now-undivided focus unnerved the young woman, and she took a timid step back. Link let out a small laugh and addressed her.

_"This 'stupid flute' is an ocarina that has not only saved my life on many occasions, but my kingdom as well. Not only that, it is an heirloom that belongs to someone very precious to me. You may not understand the significance of this instrument, but I do."_

Mireille blinked, not understanding where he was going. To her, it was simply a pale blue instrument that held little value. Link made it sound as though the instrument were a powerful artifact. She found it difficult to believe his words regarding the ocarina, but remembered what happened the last time she doubted his claims. Mireille let out a sigh and averted her gaze, remembering the countless misgivings that still bothered her since her encounters with the Hylian days ago.

Link raised his eyebrow at the girl. It was not the first time he had seen her with such doubt. Though she had ceased her hostilities towards him, it was evident that she still had something on her mind. A part of him was amazed that she was even speaking with him right now, and he wondered just what she had to say.

_"You look like you want to ask me something. What is it?"_

Mireille looked back at him with an expression of longing. She recalled the memories he had shown her days ago, and the broken young man within them. Even now, seeing her own visage fight back against the very monsters that had invaded the town of Brume frightened her. The teenager had never met the man present in those images, yet in Link's memory, she had encountered him.

On top of this, her conversation with the Hero had chilled her to this moment:

_"You don't remember, do you? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't remember me. You were a much different person in that time."_

_"You're not making any sense at all!"_

_"We met in another time... and another life."_

Her mind whirled in thought since that conversation. Even now, she knew little of the Hylian soul that had become bound to her. From what his memory showed her, he had been forced into the body of another person named Brent Andrews long before his encounter with Mireille in the present. Unwilling to bury her thoughts any longer, she decided to make her concerns known.

_"Link... you have been promising me an explanation for what is going on. I want to know... how do you know me? You say you met me 'in another time and another life'... what exactly did you mean by that?"_

Link smiled at her, intrigued by her sudden curiosity. Before, she had been too angry to pursue his words, but now, the sudden shift in her attitude was both refreshing and bewildering to the Hylian. He mulled over his words, unsure of where to begin. The man had owed the woman who had saved his very soul an explanation for their present circumstance.

_"I meant just that, Mireille. I met you in another time, one where the Afflicted had begun their invasion in earnest. As for 'how I know you'... I showed you the memory of my first encounter with you already. Or have you forgotten?"_

To her surprise, there was not a hint of malice in his tone- only curiosity. She recalled the memory of her supposed encounter with the haggard young man with crystal clarity. Even now, she could not get the image of his withered, emaciated body out of her mind. He appeared so weak and fragile, as though he were going to break at any moment. As she looked into Link's eyes, the grit and determination present radiated in the broken man's clouded eyes.

She froze in her place, chilled by his words. Before, she had only mused on where she could have encountered Brent Andrews in her life. In the instant the revelation had come to her before, she had dismissed it as delusions of a frantic woman exhausted from battling another will. The power to manipulate time was pure fantasy, things that were only present in movies and literature. Mireille looked back at Link with a look of utter disbelief.

_"No way... there's no way you could've done that. That's impossible. You'd have to violate the laws of physics in order to do that!"_

Link raised an eyebrow at her. A part of him was pleased with her findings, while another was put off by her choice of words. Despite this, he couldn't help but return a smile her direction. The look of shock on her face was priceless to the Hylian man. It was like watching a child figure out an intricate puzzle for the first time, and he wondered just what she would say next.

_"How? How were you able to-"_

Before she could say anything else, Link held up his ocarina in front of her. He tapped on the mouth piece, as if in answer to her question. Mireille looked at the ocarina, then back at Link, and finally back to the ocarina. She watched as he continued to smile at her, relishing her attempts to rationalize his answer.

_"You mean to tell me... that you somehow, in __**some**__ way manipulated the flow of time... with that stupid flute."_

_"Ocarina, Mireille."_

_"...You are so full of it."_

Link shook his head and let out a small laugh, unsurprised by her disbelief at his claims. He was amused at her continued denials towards his words. The truth was right in front of her, but as before, she continued to deny the validity of his words. The Hylian gazed at her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He held the ocarina up to his lips.

_"Very well. Since my words are not enough to convince you of the truth, I'll just show you."_

Mireille gazed back at him with wide eyes. She did not like the look in his eyes- she did not like it at all. A sense of dread filled the young woman as she stepped back, her feet crunching against the reeds behind her as she did so. It was then that she realized her folly; once more, she had refused to believe Link's claims, and now deeply regretted her words.

_"What are you going to do, Link?" _Mireille felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. _"This isn't funny!"_

Link closed his eyes and began to play the ocarina once more. The song he began to play was unlike any she had heard before. It was a strange tune, one that evoked a sense of storming fury. Mireille could only watch as the wind, once stagnant and unchanging, began to whirl around them. Notes cadenced through the air, and the Hylian appeared oblivious to what was transpiring around him even as his hat and bangs flailed in the growing tempest around them.

Horrified by the mystical phenomenon happening around her, Mireille looked up at the skies above. Clouds and fog swirled above them as a storm brewed in the heavens. Thunder rumbled through the air as lightning flashed in the skies. The young woman screamed in fear, while torrential rain fell down from above, drenching the human girl and the Hylian man in the downpour.

_"Stop! Please stop... you've made your point!"_

Mireille squeezed her eyes shut as she resisted the urge to cry. She had always hated thunder and lightning, even as a little girl. Frozen in terror at the storm above, Mireille could do little more than cower where she stood, not knowing when Link's 'demonstration' would come to an end. To the young woman's relief, she heard the notes of his ocarina begin to taper off, until they ceased altogether.

Within moments, the storm began to subside, until only the ever-present mist she had come to know remained. The young woman trembled, shivering in the cold her soaked jacket invited. Despite his own drenched appearance, he could only gaze at her with a curious expression on his face. He looked around, pleased with his handiwork.

His gaze shifted back to the frightened young woman, disappointed by her behavior. Link made his way over to the girl and offered a hand to her. Mireille opened her eyes and looked around, mystified by what had just occurred. She looked at the green-clad man, and then back at the ocarina in his hand. The Hylian cocked his head at her and laughed.

_"Oh, Mireille,"_ Link said with a soft smile, _"Come on, it wasn't that bad. I could've done much worse. What, are you afraid of a little rain now?"_

Mireille glared at him from where she stood, unamused by his attempt at humor. She swatted his hand away, not wanting to entertain his gesture of courtesy. The Hero shrugged and walked back over to the log. He looked back at her as he sat down.

_"Alright, alright, I've had my fun. Come on over and have a seat. We have a lot to talk about."_

Despite her frustration, Mireille trotted over to the log, eager to see what it was Link wanted to talk to her about. In the hope that he had stopped fooling around and had decided to give her some answers, she sat beside him on the log, her expression filled with nervous anticipation. Her gaze met his once more as he spoke.

_"I must admit, Mireille, I am rather shocked to see you speaking to me right now. None the less, I promised you answers to your questions, and I intend to give them to you. You have been wanting to know who I am, what is happening to your world, and why we are here. What I am about to tell you is for you, and you alone."_

Mireille looked at him in a confused manner. Never had she seen the Hylian man gaze at her with such a grave expression on his face. Though she did not truly understand the gravity of his words, she found the shift in his attitude unnerving. She sat in silence, waiting for him to begin.


	2. prologue, part ii

**Penance  
**-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

**DISCLAIMER:** The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.

prologue, part ii

_"To understand what I am about to tell you, you must understand the nature of time itself. Tell me, Mireille- what do you know of it?"_

The young woman blinked, unsure of how to respond. She wondered if this was some sort of trick question the Hylian was throwing at her. Holding her chin in thought, she mulled over her words. Mireille gazed back at him with uncertainty as she began.

_"Well, I understand that time moves in a line, that there's a past, present, and future, and that we all exist in moments of time..."_

Link chuckled at her response. A part of him was amused at her meager attempt to rationalize his question, and it was clear that the question had gone over the young woman's head. It was the Hero's turn to mull over his thoughts in an attempt to explain the concept of time to her. Mireille gave him a confused look.

_"Yes, you are correct in that sense. Time moves in one direction, and our actions in the past are forever set in stone. However, time is not simply a line on the ground, Mireille. It is a river that branches out into many directions, spanning out into infinite possibilities. Our actions in one moment can change the course of history in an instant... and like any other river, it is possible to travel downstream... or upstream."_

Mireille let out a sigh and rubbed her temples, massaging the growing headache forming at her displeasure towards his explanation. As far as Mireille knew, time was absolute and unable to be bent. The laws of physics would not allow such an event to occur. Not wanting another demonstration of power from him, Mireille rolled her eyes at him.

_"Okay, I'll bite, Link. So if time is supposed to be some giant river in the cosmos, how in the world did you... 'swim' through the river?"_ Mireille cringed at her words. _"I mean, you'd need quite a canoe and quite a paddle to get up that river."_

Link peered into her eyes and returned a coy smile. He held out his left hand, and Mireille watched as a familiar light formed in his left hand. When the aura faded, a familiar sword appeared. Pristine silver glimmered in the light, while the symbol of three triangles remained etched near the base of the blade. A yellow gem embedded itself into the wing-like cross-guard below. Like the handle and hilt of the sword, it was colored a deep indigo.

Mireille was all too accustomed with its presence, for it had been her primary weapon and means of defense against the evils entrenched in the town of Brume. Despite this, she knew little of the blade's nature. She watched as Link planted the sword into the ground at the base of his feet. The young woman blinked, vexed by his actions.

_"...What does that sword have to do with anything? Just what are you trying to get at?"_

The Hylian said nothing as he closed his eyes. Mireille blinked, confused by his actions. Before the young woman could react, images of a cathedral filled her mind. She had seen the altar before, when the Hero had played another one of his songs during his attempts to settle their conflict. Only this time, the sunlight had dimmed, and in certain portions, had vanished entirely. Only a single ray of light shimmered through the windows, illuminating the empty pedestal in the center of the room.

A figure in blue stood in front of the pedestal, as if waiting for someone. Bandages wrapped around the figure's fingers, body, and head, as if concealing his appearance. A ragged cloth hung over his torso, revealing the symbol of a crying eye, while cloth concealed the lower half of the figure's face. The only feature that stood out to her were his crimson eyes, which were concealed by blond hair.

In her mind's eye, Mireille watched the figure of Link run into the chamber. Trailing behind him was a small, brilliant blue light, its bug-like wings fluttering in the stagnant air of the chamber. As the two of them spoke, she watched as the ragged figure pulled out a harp, while Link pulled out the familiar ocarina. What they were saying, she did not hear- only the sound of their instruments filled their ears, their notes echoing through the chamber walls. When their song finished, the figure spoke one last time:

_'So long as you hold the Ocarina of Time and the Master Sword, you carry time itself in your hands...'_

Mireille let out a startled gasp as the vision left her mind, leaving her breathless in its wake. She gazed at the sword, recognizing it as the same blade concealed in the sheath he wore in her vision. Up until this point, she had regarded the blade as a mere tool to protect herself from those who would do her harm. Now, she no longer knew what to think about the sword or the being who carried it now.

_Master... Sword? Ocarina... of Time?_

A part of her felt a new curiosity manifest, while another was further repulsed by the very weapon she had come to despise. Ever since it had manifested in her hand, it had brought her nothing but misery, and yet it was the only weapon capable of damaging the monsters that had plagued both the town of Brume and the areas surrounding it. Despite her misgivings, the images presented new information regarding the weapon and the instrument she had seen him play. Before she could even begin to digest this new information, Link stepped towards her.

To Mireille's surprise, a grim seriousness took hold of Link as he began to relay his story to her.

_"Within my world, my people speak of a legend..."_

He walked around the log where Mireille sat, his gaze penetrating Mireille's. There was a fierceness in his eyes she had not witnessed since their conflict days ago. It was the only constant of this alien man she had found herself bound to. She could do little more than sit in silence as he continued.

_"A legend of a boy who traveled back and forth through time. Armed with the Sword of Evil's Bane and the Ocarina of Time, he battled an Evil King. On his journey, he awakened six Sages, and combined with the powers of their leader, managed to seal away the Evil King, along with the power of the Gods he had stolen. But... as with all things, his journey came to an end. He laid the Legendary Blade... the Master Sword to rest, and closed the door between time..."_

A tinge of regret crept into Link's voice as he continued. There was a sadness, a guilt Mireille had never seen in his eyes before. Even in the face of their conflict, she had never witnessed the sorrow that filled his eyes. He stopped just before the sword, placing his left hand on the hilt of the blade. Mireille jerked back, startled by the directness of his gaze.

_"Mireille... I was that boy."_

Mireille's eyes widened at his statement. She gazed back at him, stunned and unable to speak. The young woman knew little of Link's background, and understood even less about him. Between his statement, the vision she had seen, and his demonstration of the ocarina's power, she no longer knew what to make of him. Though his story was difficult to believe, his mannerisms throughout carried a sincerity she had not experienced since her nightmare began.

Link continued to gaze at Mireille, wondering just how she would react. It was as though he were watching gears turn in a clock, struggling to move forward. Up until this point, the young woman had lived in a prison of fear- a prison he hoped to release her from. He cocked his head at her.

_Do you understand now the significance the ocarina carries, milady?_

An expression of guilt manifested on Mireille's face as she reflected on her words from moments before. She did not want to believe he was telling the truth, that the simple blue instrument could not possess such power. The young woman knew so little, and now felt bad about her behavior towards his initial explanation. Shocked by his words, she looked him in the eye and spoke.

_"Who... are you?"_

Link returned a smile towards her.

_I have been waiting so long for you to ask me that..._

_"I am but one of many heroes who has ever wielded this blade. In ages past, before the loss of my... world, I was known as the Hero of Time."_

Mireille's eyes widened at his statement. It had been clear the moment she laid eyes on him a week ago that he was not of her world, but to learn of this was devastating. Yet despite his attempts to answer her questions, it only lead to more questions in her mind. The young woman struggled to articulate her thoughts, her mind whirling in a vortex of confusion.

_"Your... world?"_

Once more, a sorrowful light filled Link's eyes as he pulled the Master Sword from the ground. Mireille mirrored his sadness, mortified by what she had just heard. It was then that she realized why he only wanted her to know these things.

_'What I am about to tell you is for you, and you alone._'

_"My world, Hyrule, was once a beautiful place... but then the Afflicted came."_ Link closed his eyes, anguish creeping into his voice. _"Before my very eyes, I watched those I fought for become soulless monsters. The lush, green forests became barren husks, while the water became tainted. We did not understand what we were up against... as everything descended into chaos, a comet pierced the skies above Hyrule. I was bathed in its eerie, mesmerizing light._

_"Those of us who retained our senses had no idea what had happened to us. Over time, we learned that the light of that comet made us immune against the Afflicted and the corruption they spread. I fought against them with all the strength I possessed, but my power was not enough. I was immune to their power... and little more. Not even the Master Sword could do nothing against them. As my people fell into despair, the comet appeared over Hyrule one last time. Those of us who remained were taken by its light, our bodies and souls trapped within the comet's confines."_

As he paused to collect himself, Mireille shirked back, frightened by his story. Images of a blighted world crumbling into nothingness filled her mind, intermixed with her memories of the night at the Broadway Hotel. She let out a gasp of horror as she came to an ominous realization. The young woman held a quivering hand to her mouth.

_"Oh God..."_

_"The comet that appeared over your world... is the Comet of Aetherus, the very same one that came to mine. For so long, I was a prisoner within it, unable to do anything but watch it pass over other worlds plagued by the Afflicted, each time migrating more souls in and out of itself."_

Images of the Broadway Hotel being consumed by flames filled Mireille's mind, as did the sound of countless screams. Tears filled her eyes as she watched herself, wrapped in the comet's eerie light, approaching the other guests. While others vanished in a similar light, others faced a more gruesome fate. Like an inky black mass, a corruptive force took hold of them, morphing their bodies into hideous monstrosities. She approached them as if possessed, and watched their bodies combust in white fire.

She looked at her hands as if they were monstrous appendages. The thought that she had attacked anyone while enthralled by the comet's power terrified her. Mireille's thoughts turned toward the weeks preceding the attack on her school. She recalled the lightheadedness she felt three days after her grandfather had brought her back home from the hospital. It had been a terrible sign that something was wrong with her.

As she reflected on the gradual transformation that had changed her, more questions filled her mind. The emaciated face of Brent Andrews appeared before her, his willful face contorted in agony. Visions of Brent strapped to a device on a yacht followed suit. As Brent and Link's wills battled one another, it drew a sad parallel to her current situation. Link's desperate thoughts echoed in her mind once more-

_'The Light... he does not possess the Light! How? How could the Binding have __**failed**__?'_

_"Link...,"_ Mireille's voice quaked with nervous anticipation. _"If the comet gave you some sort of protection... then why? Why am I... like this?"_

Link stepped towards her once again, and gently held her chin up as green met blue once more. Her eyes pleaded with him, begging him for answers to the questions that had been plaguing her for so long. The Hylian let out an uneasy sigh, recalling the terrified emotions she had carried towards her new physical form. In spite of his sheer will, the strength of her emotions were overwhelming. He did not know if it was an aspect of the Binding that made them so powerful, or if it was her own will that gave them such strength, but her thoughts and emotions had been just as alien to him as his were to her.

_"While we were imprisoned within the Comet, we found others who had lost their worlds to the Afflicted... and learned of a book. In it contained information about the Comet that had so ensnared us, and the Afflicted that had destroyed our homes. They called it the Book of Aetherus, and through it, they learned of a ritual that could create a being that could destroy the Afflicted. A being who could channel the Light of Aetherus into a force powerful enough to drive back their corruption. They called this being... an Aeon."_

The Hero looked into Mireille's eyes, watching her get lost in the whirlwind of emotion that manifested. It was clear to him that she did not know what to feel. The anger, hate, and resentment she felt towards her altered physical state mixed with the sadness, horror, and pity she carried towards his tale. A part of him was pleased with the courage she showed in listening to his story, for it was just as painful for him to explain as it was for her to listen.

_"The Binding ritual was not without its drawbacks. Among my people, my will was the only one strong enough to endure the ritual. We have searched for ages for another who could channel my power and the Light of Aetherus. That was when we discovered your world. Many times, we attempted to Binding ritual on those of your people who had come into contact with the Light, but we had little success, Mireille. Most... did not survive the Binding itself, and with each failed ritual, my spirit grew weaker and weaker... as the Afflicted grew more powerful, I was left with little alternative but to use the ocarina to reverse the flow of time."_

As the words left Link's mouth, his previous statements to her haunted Mireille's mind, overshadowing all else:

_'You don't remember, do you? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you don't remember me. You were a much different person in that time.'_

_'You're not making any sense at all!'_

_'We met in another time... and another life.'_

Mireille turned pale as she reflected upon her behavior towards him. Before, she had believed Link had consumed Brent Andrews' spirit and took over his decayed body in the memories he had shown her. Ambivalence filled her being, pulling at her from every direction. She wanted to hate this man for the hell he had put her through thus far, but in the face of his harrowing story, it painted a different picture, one where he was the victim, and not the vile entity she believed he had destroyed Brent.

_Brent... I... I have to know._

_"Then... Brent was-"_

_"-was not our doing, Mireille."_

Link interrupted her and returned an apologetic glance. Once more, sadness filled his eyes as he continued his sordid tale.

_"We... were not the only ones who knew of the Binding ritual, and how to create an Aeon. Palmgate... that evil man somehow learned of the ritual. He sought to use the Aeon for his own personal gain, as a weapon he could unleash upon your world and spread fear among your people. Though he was your predecessor... not even Palmgate could control what he had unleashed upon the boy that night."_

_"Palmgate?!"_

At the sound of his name, Mireille jerked forward. She recalled the man's cold gray eyes, and the way they looked at her like she was an insect ready to be squished. Even as she looked back at him in terror that night, she could never forget the man in the business suit that night. Her begging and pleading for her life fell on deaf ears. This was the same man who had wanted to end her life, the same man who had sent countless men in pursuit of her to finish what he could not that night. The very memory of that night and the power she unleashed upon his men made her nauseous.

The Hero placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. He lowered himself until he was at eye level. Mireille's uncertain expression did not falter as her eyes questioned his intentions. For the first time since the conversation began, he let out a sad smile.

_"Mireille... you wanted to know where we met, and how this all came about... and I intend to make this known to you. What I am about to show you are among my most painful memories. You braved me peering into your own memories and prying up that which has caused you so much anguish... now, I ask for your courage once more. I ask you to trust me now, as you had then. Once I begin... you must see this up until the very end."_

Mireille let out a sigh. The sensation of him sharing his memories with her was alien to her. With his memories came the thoughts, feelings, and emotions attached to them. A part of her did not know if she wanted to go through that again, while another wanted to press on, desperate to know the truths that had been hidden from her for so long- the truth she so craved. She placed her hands on his shoulders.

_"Alright, Link... show me what happened... from the beginning."_

As the pair closed their eyes, an eerie white aura surrounded them, like a holy flame that extended from their bodies. The reality around them faded as memories filled their minds. Despite the fear she possessed of what he was about to show her, she braced herself for the unknown.


	3. i

**Penance  
**-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

**DISCLAIMER:** The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.

i

Everlasting white surrounded Link as he floated amidst the nothingness. The only thing that accompanied the Hero was the countless souls that filled the void. Like him, all they knew was the cold numbness that had gripped them since being taken. The vastness that surrounded him knew no bounds.

Here in this void, his strength was useless, as was his will. He was a prisoner to this void, a lost warrior no longer able to battle the torpor that had blanketed him since being ensnared. All that functioned within him was his mind. Even as he slept peacefully in the white around him, Link called out to the other souls around him with his mind.

_Zelda?_

In that instant, the lost Hero felt something calling him. For the first time in many ages, he struggled against the paralysis that had long since taken hold of him. Link felt himself drift through the void, as if being summoned. Feelings of rejuvenation overwhelmed him. A smile formed on his lips as he sensed his body descending through the sea of souls around him.

_Is it time again? Will the Binding succeed?_

A small pang of sadness forced its way from out of his awakened emotions. Link's mind drifted towards his homeland. Visions of verdant green fields played in his thoughts. Off in the distance, he envisioned a majestic castle, its towering blue spires tearing into the skyline. Small flags dotted the castle, billowing in the warm breeze. A determined frown formed on his face as visions of a princess took hold of him.

Even when they first met, she was a remarkable woman. Her blue eyes shimmered with the same determination he carried in his own. He remembered the regal dress that graced her body, which were different shades of pink. Various gold jewelry completed her ensemble. It befitted her in more ways than one, he recalled.

_Someday... I will find you again._

Without any warning, Link found himself pulled by an unknown force. The white around him gave way to black, and he found himself falling into darkness. Numbness gave way to unspeakable pain. He felt as though he were being torn apart. With every ounce of strength his spirit could muster, he fought this growing force.

He felt himself land on something solid. Agony continued to surge through his being as he gazed at his surroundings. Black clouds thundered in the skies above as a torrential downpour fell. Around his feet was nothing but shallow water. The water's crystal clear surface reflected the scenery around him. His gaze traveled downward towards his own reflection.

Blond hair framed his face, which parted midway onto either side. Tufts of hair covered the base of his ears, which were long and pointed. A green cap, also long and pointed, graced his head, which extended down past his shoulders. A matching tunic covered his body, as did the white undersuit beneath it. Fingerless leather gauntlets covered his hands while a simple pair of boots clothed his feet and shins.

A look of surprised formed on Link's face as blue eyes peered back at him. All around his body was an eerie white light. It draped him in a gentle embrace, as it had done in the void he had left moments ago. He felt a familiar warmth on the back of his left hand. When he gazed down, he spotted a familiar mark, its golden light standing out amongst the aura that surrounded him.

_So even now, I still bear its power. I thought it had left me long ago when I passed from the world..._

Before Link could do anything else, another wave of pain tore him from his thoughts. He fell onto one knee, reeling from the sensation flowing through him. Like a fire going out, the Hero felt the aura around him begin to flicker and fade. His awareness began to shift, and he found himself imprisoned in a dark place.

Gone was the storming skies above him, and in their place stood the roof of a luxury yacht. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied the eerie light of a comet streaking through the night sky. Tendrils of light danced from the comet to the device that contained his body. As he cried out in agony, he spied a figure staring at him with a pleased expression on his face.

In the man's hands was an aged book covered in alien glyphs, which glowed with the same eerie light that shone from the comet above. His mind reeled, struggling to understand what was going on. It was then that the world around him shifted again, this time returning to the stormy plane he had left moments ago. Link fell to the ground, gasping for air.

_What is... going on? This isn't right...!_

The sound of footsteps in the waters around him jarred his thoughts. Link slowly turned around and came face to face with another figure. A young man with glared at him with angry blue eyes. His hair, once a golden blond like his own, was now dirty and unkempt. A dirty gray trenchcoat covered his body, as did a black shirt and a pair of pants. He did not know what material his clothing was made out of; like everything about it, it was unlike anything he had ever encountered before.

His shirt was the most peculiar piece of clothing to the green-clothed intruder. On it were designs of lightning and strange words written in a language he did not understand. As the figure approached the intruder, the Hylian braced himself. That was when the figure spoke.

"Get out..."

Link gazed at the newcomer before him, surprised by the hostility his face emanated. He shook his head at the figure, unable to understand the words he had just spoken. The language this figure spoke was unlike anything he had ever heard. Unable to understand his speech, the Hero held his hands in the air.

_"I don't understand." _Link's words were filled with confusion, unable to understand the stranger's words. _"What are you saying?"_

His inquiries only served to anger the person before him. The young man's steps grew louder as he approached the intruder before him. Despite his advance, Link did not move. Uncertain of the newcomer's intentions, he braced himself.

The Hero closed his eyes, searching his thoughts for an answer to his situation. As he did so, the young man before him doubled over and grasped his head in pain. Startled by what was going on, Link opened his eyes. Blue met blue as the newcomer scrambled to his feet.

"Get out..." He gripped his head in pain, as though his mind were crumbling apart. "Get out... of my head!"

A confused expression formed itself on the Hero's face, unable to make sense of what was going on. That was when agony gripped him. Thoughts that were not his own gripped Link, and he nearly stumbled over from the impact on his mind. As he struggled to understand the alien sensation occurring to him, Link felt the white aura around him brighten.

In that instant, a horrible realization came to him.

_The Light... he does not possess the Light!_

An enraged cry filled the air. The young man ran towards him with fists bared.

_How? How could the Binding have __**failed**__?_

Link dodged the young man's attacks with ease. More punches flew in his direction. With a cry, his opponent attempted to punch his jaw. The Hero caught the young man's fist and held it in a tight grip. Cries of anger were replaced with cries of pain as the young man felt the intruder's grasp strengthen. As he locked eyes with the young man in front of him, the Hero searched his thoughts. That was when a name came to his mind.

_Br... ent?_

_"Br... ent," _Link uttered, testing the alien name on his tongue.

Like the tongue he spoke, his name felt foreign to him. With his name came the young man's confusion. It was then that the green-clad figure realized where he was.

_His mind... this place must be his mind...!_

_"Brent! Brent, listen to me! I do not wish to fight you! Please, stop attacking me!"_

"Stop... stop talking to me! Get out... of my head... get out... of my mind...!"

The scene around the intruder shifted once again. He found himself back on the yacht, staring back at the figure with the book once more. A look of anguish etched itself onto his face as pain tore through his weakened body. His heart began to race with the feeling of adrenaline surging through his blood.

A tortured scream escaped his lips as the light from the comet continued to flow into the device he had been strapped to. With every ounce of willpower he could summon, he fought against his restraints. It was as though a thousand needles carrying a deadly poison were stabbing into his flesh, weakening him further.

He felt another presence besides his own within his body. It, too, was in pure agony, unable to make sense of what was going on. Reality shifted once again, and both he and the young man in front of him locked arms once more. A torrential downpour fell from the stormy skies above as the two waged war with one another.

_"I am not your enemy, Brent! Please, stop fighting me before you destroy us both!"_

As the green-clad figure pushed him away, an angry scream escaped Brent. In a desperate attempt to stop their fighting, he pleaded with him once more.

_"My name is Link... I have been pulled here against my will. I don't want to hurt you. We can help each other! Please, listen to me!"_

His pleas fell on deaf ears as the young man rushed to his feet once again. Brent leaped at the intruder, and the two of them collapsed onto the watery floor beneath them. A look of pure hatred formed itself on Brent's face as he held Link in a stranglehold. Link choked, struggling to breathe in the teenager's grip. Summoning his strength, he pried Brent's hands from his neck, and tossed him off of his body.

Link raced to his feet and prepared himself for another attack. Brent stumbled forward, struggling to regain his footing. The scene shifted again, the yacht and the man greeting him once again. As unbearable agony gripped him once more, he felt his lips move. He felt the other presence beside him speak.

"What... what have you... **done** to me!"

Link felt confused, unable to understand the words his body spoke. That was when he made a realization. It was not **him** speaking... it was Brent himself. Confusion and terror gripped Brent's mind, and Link struggled to cope with the intensity of the emotions emanating from him. As he struggled against Brent's essence, the dark figure's eyes widened with horror.

"Carmine, what's going on?!" the figure cried, shouting into device in his hand.

Silence filled the air. Link watched through Brent's eyes as the figure shouted into the device once more. He did not understand what was happening around him. The sights before him were unlike anything the otherworldly Hero had ever witnessed.

"Carmine, answer me!"

A hesitant voice spoke through the device. It was that of a middle-aged female. Her voice tore through the air, full of panic. It was as though something was unraveling before her very eyes.

"Energy readings are spiking rapidly, sir... it's losing stability! Energy transferral rate into the subject is at 80% and climbing... at the current rate of absorption, the containment device won't be able to hold much longer...! Sir, if we don't abort now, the subject will-"

The sound of agonized screaming filled the air. Link gritted his teeth as he let out ragged gasps of air. Once more, he searched his mind, hoping to clean any further information about what the man was saying. A sense of delirium overcame him, and in that instant, he could feel what little strength he had remaining begin to wane.

_No... I will not allow myself to die here..._

Another surge of power raced through him. He felt a familiar warmth on the back of his left hand. This was a power he knew all too well- one he had been entwined with for ages. Through Brent's eyes, he watched as the shadowy man before him let out an amazed gasp.

"Sir, you have to get out of there! The containment field will collapse at any moment... it's gone out of control!"

Consumed with overwhelming panic, Brent's mind fought back against the growing force within him. The two souls battled for control, and in that moment, Link knew the unfortunate young man he had come into contact with would not back down. Brent's mind continued to claw at the alien sentience that had invaded him, and desired nothing more than to expunge it from his body.

Unwilling to allow himself to be defeated, Link fought back, hoping that a show of force would drive the young man's mind into submission. From deep within, he called upon the ancient power. As he let out another scream, the mark on his left hand intensified. He began to pull at his restraints once more as an eerie white aura began to emanate from Brent's body.

Link continued to dig into Brent's thoughts, searching for whatever strength the young man still possessed. In his mind, he discovered a force within the young man. It was a power much different than the energies the alien contained within him. Like a relic lost to the ages that had finally been unearthed, it stood there waiting to be used.

_Goddesses, please... forgive me for what I am about to do..._

Brent's mind screamed in agony as Link tapped into the power he had unearthed. The sound of screeching metal filled the air as the restraints holding Brent's body down began to peel away. Link pounded against the metal to further free himself. As the figure before them stood flabbergasted at this display, Link pulled Brent's left arm out from the device he had been strapped to. With a groan, he pulled on his right, freeing it from bondage soon afterward. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gathered his strength and kicked away the metal that held his legs and feet down.

He fell to the ground, gasping for air. The mark on his left hand continued to glow, shimmering with a blazing intensity. As he pulled himself up with what little strength he possessed, the device he had been trapped to short-circuited. Fire lit up around the device, eager to consume everything around it. Blue eyes met gray as Link forced Brent's face into an angry expression.

The look on the man's face was without remorse. He gazed into Brent's eyes, as if he were a useless doll he wanted to throw away. A tinge of horror and amazement forced itself up from the cool mask he wore. Link knew the look on that man's face all too well- it was the look of a man poised to commit evil acts. It was a face he had seen before in another time... and another life. Memories of evil laughter filled his mind as Link confronted the man before him.

**_"You!"_** Link pointed his finger at the shadowy man in an accusatory manner._ "This was __**your**__ doing, wasn't it!"_

The figure stepped back, his eyes wide with shock. Amidst the aura around Brent's body, an ephemeral shape appeared around him. It was the shape of a young man with long, pointed ears. Garbed in a long pointed cap and a matching green tunic, he was dumbfounded by the shift taking place. The mark of the triangles on his hand burned brightly, like a divine brand that had been given to him by God. He lifted his hand and pointed it at the figure in an accusing manner.

_"Do you __**realize**__ what you've done!"_

The man closed his eyes, unable to understand the strange speech the being before him spoke. Link narrowed his eyes in anger as his patience grew thin. He could feel Brent's strength beginning to wane... and he wanted justice for the young man's life that had been ruined tonight. His steps thundered against the floor of the cabin as he approached the figure.

_"You have given Brent a __**death**__ sentence..."_

Sensing the danger he was in, the dark man pulled out the device from his hand and spoke once more.

"Carmine! Terminate the experiment and activate the self-destruct sequence!"

"Sir...!"

"Do it, Carmine!"

Link growled in anger, unable to understand what he and the voice speaking from his device were saying. Sirens tore through the air around him as he became lost in a sea of red light. The figure let out a small sneer as he pocked the device in his hands and ran towards the nearby cabin door. He ran in pursuit, jumping over the consoles in front of him. The possessed man turned the handle, unable to make it move; the man had locked the door.

He pulled and tugged on the handle, struggling to make it open. As moments passed, explosions filled the air. Link found himself thrown backwards, along with the door he was holding. He threw the now dismantled door off of his body and ran through the entryway in pursuit of the shadowy man. Weakness gripped him as he made his way up several ladders onto the deck of the yacht. As he ran towards its edge, he spied the shadowy man speeding away on a small boat.

More explosions filled the air as he found himself thrown around once again. The cold of the ocean water around him stabbed his body. Unable to maintain his strength any longer, he gave into his body's weakness. Darkness filled his vision as he became lost to the sea...


	4. ii

**Penance  
**-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

**DISCLAIMER:** The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.

ii

Thousands of images assaulted Link's mind as he struggled to control his body, like a relentless attacker being on destroying him. Faces he had come across before gazed back at him, their expressions frozen in agony as they screamed. The world around him shifted and turned, between those his soul had come into contact before and the watery grave he had entered. Like him, the eerie light of the comet wrapped around them, twisting them in a perverse embrace.

Link felt himself gasp for air, unable to do anything in the face his torment. The cold, ocean water tore into his flesh like a thousand knives stabbing his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to drown out the horror his memory had unearthed. Even in the face of his sheer will, the tormenting images took their toll on the Hero's mind. Like damaged glass, the memories that plagued him cracked away. The sound of breaking glass filled his ears as the images shattered before him, and the Hero knew no more.

* * *

Rhythmic beeps filled the air, pulsing throughout the room like a messenger of death. A heart monitor rested beside the bed where an unconscious man slept, informing the world of the life that still resided within his sleeping form. Dirty, grime-covered hair framed the face of a young man, while a blue hospital gown clothed his body. Thin white sheets rested over him, stopping just above his chest.

Underneath the sheets, wires extended from his body into the heart monitor. His shallow breaths were the only sign of life beyond the pulse the machine received from his form. Pastel blue curtains hung across the room, a thin divider of privacy that shielded him from sight. White and beige covered the walls, while a thin strip rose-colored paint lined bottom. Beyond the window and the white curtains that hung in front of it, there were little signs of life in the room that housed him.

The teenager's eyelids twitched as his consciousness drifted between life and death. A part of him felt himself slip deeper into the abyss of numbness, while another battled the languor that threatened to overtake him. Torn between the darkness he had come to know and the light he wanted to embrace, he felt his pulse quicken. Like a dreamer wanting to return to their slumber, the gravity of the world around him pulled at his consciousness, beckoning him to awaken from his dreamless sleep.

Loud noises startled him as the sound of a door opening filled the air, followed by rushed footsteps. Metal grinding against metal tore at him, and the nameless man wanted nothing more than for the hideous noise to end. A woman's humming soon took over, and he found himself unsure of what was happening. In the face of the numbness he had known, the fear that crept into his hazy mind was alien to him.

Words he could not understand waded through the room. He felt confused and afraid. As a hand touched his bare skin, the young man's eyes snapped open. The nameless man's gaze met those of a concerned woman. A navy blue uniform clothed her body, while a matching chap rested on her head. He did not understand the strange, cross-like symbol that was etched into the fabric of her hat.

"Mr. Andrews?" The nurse asked. "Mr. Andrews, please calm down. I'm here to help you."

The woman let out a startled gasp as she felt him grip her arm, his expression contorted into one of pure terror. Clouded blue met concerned brown as she attempted to pull away from the man's grip. His gaze then shifted to the wires that attached themselves to his body. As the pulse from the heart monitor quickened, he let out a cry of horror.

Sensing his terror, the caregiver spoke to him in soft tones in an effort to calm the frightened man.

"It's alright now, Mr. Andrews. You're safe now. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a nurse here at Providence Medical Center. I can help you, just please let me go."

He shook his head, his mind struggling to comprehend her alien words. Unable to ascertain her words or her intentions, he bolted towards her, knocking her down onto the ground. With what strength he could muster, he pulled the wires out from his body. Frightened of the man's strength, the attendant crawled towards the door and pushed a red buzzer on the wall. As she shouted pleas into the strange device, he bolted from the room.

The world beyond the room that had confined him was even more alien to him. Fueled by his adrenaline, he dashed down the hall, pushing aside anyone that came into his path. Everything caused him pain- the noise of chatter and telephones, the feeling of the trazel flooring against his bare feet, the taste of the chemicals in the air... it was grotesque and unlike anything he experienced before.

Pain erupted in his mind as he struggled to combat the haze that clouded his thoughts. The nameless man struggled to grasp the sensations that overwhelmed him, squeezing his eyes shut to drown out the feelings that choked his mind. As he searched his mind for answers, he felt himself grow more and more panicked. He clenched his teeth, seething.

_Where am I?_

At the heel of that question came a thousand others—

_What is this place? What is... going on? Why... why can't I..._

To his absolute horror, he found nothing. In the empty abyss that was his memory, he felt no recollection towards the environment around him, nor did he know the faces of the people that occupied the grounds. He looked at his hands as though they were fleshy appendages that did not belong to him. These hands that obeyed his every command... he did not know them. Like the world he had awoken to, they too were unrecognizable.

Shouts tore through his thoughts. He turned around and saw several men running towards him. Startled by their sudden appearance, he bolted down the hallway, eager to get away from these men. As he weaved through crowds of visitors, doctors, nurses, and orderlies, he gazed into their own faces. Like his own, they too looked upon him with confusion.

His vision grew hazy as a strange sense of vertigo overwhelmed him. It was as though the world had been flipped upside down for the young man, and he could not make heads or tails of what was going on. He was certain of one thing- where ever, and what ever this place was, he wanted to get as far away from it as possible. The anxiety that governed him was foreign to him, as though he had never felt it before.

He bolted down a flight of stairs as he glanced over his shoulder. The men that had chased him continued their pursuit of him. He did not know who these men were, or what they wanted. It was then that he made another terrible realization- he did not know what these men were. His mind swam, conflicted by the lack of knowledge he possessed.

Determined to escape this horrible place, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. As exhaustion threatened to overtake him, he ran into large lobby, where a crowd of people watched the panicked young man gaze back at them with a desperate expression. The nameless teenager ran outside as his pursuers uttered shouts in the air. Before he could go any further, a startled gasp escaped his lips.

"Son..."

Before the nameless man stood two figures— an older man and a middle-aged woman. Short, sandy blond hair remained tucked under a black hat, while his wife's own locks flailed in the wind, as if refusing to remain under her own hat. Wrinkles covered their faces, making them appear ancient. The man's black jacket also whirled around him, as did his companions. Their blue eyes peered back at his own, full of worry for the young man before them.

"Brent...," the woman said. "Brent... it's us..."

He looked back at them, his own eyes full of pity for the strangers before him. The teenager did not understand why they were behaving this way towards him, nor anything that they said to him. The woman ran towards him and gripped his shoulders, as if pleading him for an answer. Taken aback by her actions, he pushed the woman away from him, confused by what was going on.

The woman looked back at him, as though the nameless man had planted a knife into her heart. She broke down into tears, unable to bear what was happening. Untold pain and sorrow filled her eyes as she gazed into his own. She approached him once more.

"Don't you recognize your own mother, Brent?"

The older man held his wife back, unable to bear the sight of his mate in so much pain. The sadness that ebbed from his wife's eyes mirrored his own, and he gazed back at the familiar stranger with confusion.

"Brent... why won't you answer us?"

The nameless teenager shook his head, dismayed by their reaction. Guilt welled up inside of him, as though he had done some horrible crime to these strangers. Seeing these strangers driven to tears by his actions left his fragmented mind reeling. Though their speech was incomprehensible to him, the feeling of sadness and betrayal was more than palpable to him.

Questions filled his mind. He sought to understand who these people were and why they were acting this way around him. The terrible realization fell on him like boulders smashing into his skull. Instead of memories, he found nothing- only an empty void. He did not remember who these people were, or even who he was. Unable to bear the horrific conclusion he had come to, he held his hand towards them.

_"Do you know me? Are you someone from my past?"_

He marveled at the feat he had just performed. The words that left his mouth were clear, as though he had spoken them all his life. Despite this accomplishment, he found himself lost in a torrent of confusion and turmoil. He did not remember where he learned to speak, only that he could. It was as though some deep-seeded instinct had kicked in.

The couple looked back at their child with horror. It was as though he had spoken an alien language, something unlike anything they had ever heard before in their lives. The woman broke down crying, lost in the turmoil that had consumed her. Her husband held onto her, restraining the emotion that threatened to flow from his face. What had been intended as a heartfelt reunion with their lost child had become yet another tragic moment that played out before their eyes.

_"Why are you crying? Please, I did not mean to hurt your feelings! Can you not understand me?"_

As the nameless man continued to reason with the strangers before him, footsteps echoed against the concrete. Before he could do anything else, he felt a cold metal object press into his neck. Darkness filled his vision as he collapsed onto the concrete. The sound of the woman's horrified cries filled his ears, and awareness left him once more.

* * *

Lights blared into the nameless man's eyes as he came to. An impenetrable fog enveloped his mind, and he found it difficult to concentrate. His eyelids fluttered open as the world came into view, blurry and out of focus. Only vague shapes and colors appeared before him, and his tattered mind wanted nothing more than to make sense of the chaos that had enveloped him once more.

He felt tired and weakened, as though something had drained any strength he had. As he closed his eyes, he felt himself begin to drift off into sleep once more. The sound of a door opening tore him from his lethargy. Voices filled the room, and his tired mind struggled to make sense of what was happening.

"To be frank with you, Mrs. Andrews, your son's case is unlike anything we've ever seen. When he was brought here, he was suffering from severe hypothermia. From my observations of him, I believe your son is also suffering from a severe onset of retrograde amnesia."

_What...?_ he thought as he listened to the indecipherable words. _What... are they... talking about?_

"You mean... our son has lost his memory?"

_I don't... understand..._

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Andrews. Your son... may not ever fully recover his memory, but with time and therapy, he may be able to regain some."

"_Hypothermia?_" A shocked tone crept into the older man's voice as he listened to the doctor's words. "What are you saying?"

"When your son was brought here, his clothes were soaking wet. The couple who brought him here mentioned that they had found him drowning in the harbor."

Pain tore through the teenager's mind. He struggled to listen and understand what was going on. All he wanted was for these people to cease their chatter and let him sleep. He never felt as tired as he did now. Drowsiness overwhelmed him as he struggled to stay awake. Despite his inability to decipher their words, the grave tone that ebbed through their hushed voices filled him with dread.

"I don't know what happened to your son, or why he was in the harbor, Mr. Andrews. What I do know is that he seems confused, disoriented, and without therapy, I'm afraid his chances of recovery are slim."

"But what about the way he was speaking? It wasn't normal, doctor!"

Despite their hushed voices, the sound of the woman breaking into tears drifted into the nameless teenager's ears. Whatever they were conversing about, it was clear that it was anything but pleasant. Guilt welled up within him once more, ashamed at his meager attempt to eavesdrop on their discussion. Despite this, he remained motionless on the hospital bed, unable to do anything but listen to their enigmatic discussion.

"We're running additional some tests, Mrs. Andrews. We don't know anything for certain, but whatever caused his amnesia may have damaged other parts of his brain as well. I will get back to you when I have more information."

"Please, Doctor... he's my son... save my son... I lost him once, I don't want to lose him again!"

"Rest assured, Mrs. Andrews, we're doing everything we can to help him."

"Is he... going to have to remain drugged up like this...?" The older man's voice wavered, uncertain and fearful.

"I don't know for certain. No one is pressing any charges against him, but for his sake and those of the other patients, he has been sedated for the time being. He will be coming out of it soon. We best continue this discussion elsewhere and let him rest..."

"Please... I need just a few more minutes with my son..."

A sad sigh ebbed through the air as footsteps followed soon after. The sound of a handle turning pierced the air, and the nameless man resisted the urge to wince at the grinding metal sound that tore at his fogged faculties.

"I will leave you with him, then. Mr. and Mrs. Andrews... when you are ready, let the receptionist know, and we'll continue this discussion later..."

Metal creaked against metal, grating on the listless teenager's ears. The sound of a door closing soon followed. A deafening silence hung in the air, a sense of turmoil choking out all other emotions present in the room that housed him. Moments later, footsteps tore through the room, and he felt a warm body press against his own. Arms wrapped around him in a motherly embrace as the woman's voice wept on his chest.

The nameless man felt her grip on his body tighten, as if afraid he were going to slip away from her again. The feeling of a hand pressing against his own roused him from his slumber. Unlike the softer skin of the woman, the older man's skin felt coarse against his own. In the depths of the fog that blanketed his thoughts, he felt a strange familiarity ebb within him. Though he did not know the strangers that stood by his side, the love and devotion they showed towards him was palpable.

_I don't... know you... but you... know me... Am I... someone... important to you?_

Hushed whispers filled the air, and the couple released their grip on the teenager's still form. Footsteps clapped against the flooring, followed by the obnoxious creaking from before. The sound of a door closing filled the air, and the teenager was left alone to ponder the strangers that had cared for him so.


	5. iii

**Penance  
**-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

**DISCLAIMER:** The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.

iii

"Do you remember anything at all, Brent?"

The nameless man stared back at the psychiatrist in front of him. Clouded blue eyes gazed back at cold brown as a look of confusion appeared on his face. He felt lethargic before the man in the white coat. His short brown hair, combed neatly against his head, contrasted with Brent's haggard blond hair. Though the nurses and orderlies had finally seen fit to give the weakened teenager a proper bath, he found himself unable to summon the strength.

He said nothing to the psychiatrist. Whatever words the man before him was uttering were lost on the young man. Even now, he could not understand the alien tongue he and the world around him uttered. The sound of the ticking clock above them ate away at the silence consuming the room, while the sterile white paint that adorned the room only served to further the amnesiac's disgust.

The days had become a blur to the young man. When he was not sleeping, he was pulled away into sessions such as this one. He did not know why he was here, nor what these people wanted from him. The world around him seemed to move at lightning speed, and the debilitated man found himself unable to keep up. Sleep was a temporary reprieve from it all.

"Brent... I know you're exhausted from all of these tests. That was quite an assault they put you through yesterday, but... please understand that we are only trying to help you."

The psychiatrist closed his eyes, remembering the teenager's tortured screams. In the span of a week and a half, the young man had endured a marathon of physical tests, from blood and tissue samples to MRI scans. He glanced at the documents attached to his clipboard, and recalled the growing case file on the patient in front of him. Even now, his condition baffled every one of his colleagues. It defied explanation; somehow, the young man could no longer understand English.

It was not unheard of for anyone to completely forget information, but it was another to begin speaking another language altogether. He was an intelligent person, but even he had never heard of the language his patient uttered to everyone around him. The continued failure of everyone to communicate with him left the hospital staff at a stand still. He mulled over his thoughts as he scribbled notes on his clipboard.

_There must be more to this situation than we're seeing... I will have to discuss this with Mr. and Mrs. Andrews._

"Where did you learn to speak like that?"

The nameless teenager blinked, his expression exhausted. He looked as though he were on the verge of falling asleep in the chair. Unable to neither understand the psychiatrist speaking to him nor maintain his focus, he began to drift off, his eyelids flickering closed. A dismayed glance left the doctor's eyes. The nameless man felt him mind wander away, eager to appease his body's desire for sleep.

"Brent, I need you to stay awake. It's not time to sleep yet."

As the enervated man slipped into slumber, an irritated groan escaped the psychiatrist's lips. He walked over to the chair the young man sat in and shook him awake. The teenager let out a groggy grunt of protest to being jarred awake. Clouded blue eyes gazed back at him with an irritated expression.

_"Leave me alone... Haven't you people... had enough... for one day?"_

Exhaustion filled his hazy mind as he pleaded with the doctor, his tone listless and weak.

_"I'm so tired... I... can't think... straight... My head... feels like it's... in a haze. I can't... focus... Just... let me... sleep..."_

"What are you trying to say, Brent? I can't understand you."

The nameless teenager let out a groan of frustration. He was tired of speaking to this man. Nothing that left the man's mouth could be understood. He felt disconnected from the people around him, and wondered if he were better off talking to a wall. The concerned expression in the psychiatrist's eyes inferred his desire to help the tired young man. He averted his gaze, not wanting to waste his time or the stranger's time any longer.

_"I can't... I can't..."_

As his patient grew more and more agitated, the psychiatrist nodded his head in understanding and disappointment. Though he could not understand anything the young man before him said, it was clear that this latest session with him was going nowhere. He walked away from where the nameless man sat and scribbled notes once more. Out of the corner of his eye, he gazed back at his patience, who only returned a confused stare. The psychiatrist let out a sigh.

"Alright, Brent, I'll let you get some well-deserved rest now. A nurse will be by to take you back to your room shortly. I appreciate you coming down, Mr. Andrews."

Silence filled the room once more as the nameless man drifted off to sleep. When the door creaked open behind him, he found himself jarred awake. He did nothing to fight the nurse that half-carried him out of the room. The psychiatrist followed behind, silent and brooding on the session he had just completed with his patient.

* * *

Pouring rain pattered against the nearby window in a gentle rhythm, coaxing the sleeping form of the nameless figure awake. He sat up in his bed, groggy from his afternoon nap. A tired yawn escaped his lips while his eyes traveled to the window and the world beyond. Dreary skies greeted his sight, as did the rain. That was when his gaze traced the reflection that stared back at him.

Disheveled blond hair parted down the sides of his head, framing an angular, chiseled face. Tired blue eyes stared back at him, clouded and enervated from the medications he had been given. Small, round ears remained hidden underneath the mane of his long hair, which ended just above his shoulders. He held a hand up to his ears, confused by their strange, alien shapes.

He did not understand why he felt this way. Every other person around him also possessed such ears, and yet he felt as though he were lacking something. Like a limb that had been torn away from him without his knowledge, his mind grasped at the conflicting information that had presented itself to him. It was as though the image in the reflection was distorted and grotesque.

It was then that a revelation came to him—he did not recognize his own reflection. Like the world he had awoken to, it too was alien. He searched his mind, hoping to find some shred of a memory about who he was. Instead, only the ever-present emptiness greeted him. The nameless man closed his eyes, struggling to hold back the emotion that threatened to break his calm facade.

_"Who am I?"_

The nameless man stared into his reflection, hoping and praying that the image on the glass would have an answer. The rain continued its assault on the glass and concrete buildings outside. His reflection only stared back at him, offering none of the answers he so desperately sought. Not wanting to dwell on the void that was his memory, he turned his attention to the outside world.

Everything beyond the window was unlike anything he had ever seen before. In spite of the sadness that plagued him, he found himself in awe at the ingenuity of the structures and vehicles outside. Buildings and towers tore at the skyline, like pillars of human achievement standing against the wrath of the heavens beating down on their surfaces. Though he did not understand what purpose they served, it was clear that they were marvels of architecture.

Like a bolt of lightning striking his brain, a sudden pain tore him away from his musings. He grunted in pain as his left hand flew to his forehead. Phantoms flashed before his eyes, leaving him drained and breathless in their wake. The nameless man fell down on the bed, overwhelmed by a sense of vertigo. Just as suddenly as the attack began, it faded away into nothing. He sat up on the bed, piecing together his jumbled thoughts.

_What... was that?_

The sound of the door opening tore him from his thoughts. He glanced over and spied the familiar nurse making her way into the room, cautious and vigilant of the patient that had knocked her down days ago. In her hands was a tray of food and a carton of milk. He let out a sigh, not realizing how much time had flown by during the day. Guilt manifested in his mind for what he had done days ago.

"Here you are, Mr. Andrews... eat up while it's still warm...!"

Just as she set the tray down on his bed, he tugged at her arm. She gazed back at him with an unnerved expression on her face. The remorseful light in his eyes was more than palpable to the nurse. Not wanting to upset the patient again, she froze in place, hoping that he would leave her be to get on with her work around the hospital.

_"Look... I don't understand you... and you don't understand me, but... I just wanted to say that I'm sorry... about what happened before. I didn't mean to hurt you or anyone else here in... whatever place this is."_

The nurse shook her head, unsure of what to make of his actions. Only the nameless man's reassuring smile unveiled his intentions. Realizing that he was not trying to harm her, she relaxed. The amnesiac released his grip and beckoned her towards the window. She gazed out at the buildings she had seen most of her adult life, and began to wonder just what he wanted from her.

_"Do you know anything about those structures outside?"_ He closed his eyes. _"I've never seen anything like them before in my life. I feel like this is the first time I've ever witnessed anything like this. This all feels so... __**unreal**__ to me."_

She blinked, unable to understand anything the teenager said. His voice was filled with awe and wonder at the buildings outside. It was as though he were a child gazing at a skyscraper for the first time. She smiled back at him, despite her blase attitude towards the structures outside.

_"I feel... like a fish out of water. Everything feels so... new to me, miss. These walls, those lights... how do those lights work, anyway? I've never seen anything like it before."_

"Yes... they're very nice buildings, sir."

A sad, nervous laugh escaped the nameless man's lips. It was clear to the nurse that something was eating away at him inside. The tragedy of his situation dawned on her; he was isolated and alone in the world, unable to communicate with anyone around him. He seemed lost and without any sort of guidance, like a drifter in a sea of turmoil.

_"Have you ever felt as though you were missing something, miss? ...I suppose that's a silly question to ask, but... when I saw myself for the first time today, I saw somebody I didn't recognize. Isn't that strange?"_ A small smile curled itself onto his lips. _"Do you know who I am, miss? I haven't the slightest clue myself. I suppose I should feel afraid or something, but to be honest... I don't know what to feel... pretty weird, huh?"_

The nurse glanced back at him, and then back at the tray full of food. Upon seeing her gaze, he glanced at her with an expression of understanding.

_"Oh, I'm sorry! I must be keeping you from something... well, no matter! Thank you for listening to my rambling anyway. Even though you can't understand me, I want you to know that I appreciate what you did for me just now."_

Without another word, the nurse returned to her tray and hastened her way out of the room, leaving the nameless man with this thoughts once more. As he placed the tray on his lap, he began to poke and prod at the foot on the plate with a nearby fork. Mashed potatoes rested on the plate beside a few slices of meat, while a block of green gelatin wiggled. He raised a curious eyebrow at the strange substance.

_What... is that?_

Not wanting to let his food get any colder, he dug his way into the food. He made a nasty face at the bland taste of the food, and almost wished he had never bothered to eat what the nurse had served him. The nameless man ate the meal, not wanting to be rude to his caretakers. When he was finished, he slid the tray away from him and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Darkness greeted the nameless figure as a torrential downpour hailed from the stormy heavens above. Thunder and lightning flashed in ominous skies, as though the world around him teetered on the brink of destruction. Pain wracked his entire body, making it difficult for him to breath. He collapsed onto the ground, unable to stand any longer._

_As his eyes met the mirror-like reflection of the shallow water around him, he let out a startled gasp. The eyes that peered back at him were different from the ones he had seen earlier that day. They radiated the pureness of the sky, and remained unclouded in the storm around him. Golden blond bangs parted on either side of his face, free from the filth and grime he had known before._

_It was not the broader features of his face that caught the nameless man's attention. His ears, once small and rounded like the people around him, were now long and pointed. A look of shock forced itself on his face as he gingerly touched his left ear with his free hand. Somehow, this felt correct to him, an aspect of his true self long forgotten in the fog that blanketed his memory. His gaze traveled to his left hand, where he spied thick, fingerless leather gauntlets covering his hands, wrists, and forearms._

What the...?!

_Confusion filled the nameless figure's mind as he sat up, his eyes traced his arm. A white sleeve poked out from under his gauntlets. His gaze moved to his torso, where an emerald tunic greeted his eyes. A leather belt secured his waist, separating the main body of the tunic from the bottom portion that covered his thighs, ending midway. Worn leather boots sloshed in the shallow waters around him, ending just below his knees._

_He felt a strange sense of ease at his new form. It felt correct to him, as though he had known it since birth. As he struggled to understand the conflicting emotions that battled within him, pain shot through his body. He squeezed his eyes shut and fell onto the ground. When he opened his eyes, an eerie white aura surrounded his body, like an unholy flame that consumed his form._

What... is this...

_Lightning flashed in the skies, the wind around him whirling in chaos. Fighting the pain that wracked his body, the nameless man pushed himself onto his feet and looked around this abyss. He limped forward, unsure of where he was going. As he made his way onward, he spied an object in the distance. The elf-like man tried to hasten his pace to no avail._

_When the object came into view, he let out a bewildered gasp at the grotesque sight before him. Scattered, porcelain-like fragments littered the area, painted like human flesh. Their sharp, jagged edges glistened in the thunderous light above, as if filled with malevolent intent. He walked on, following the trail of shards. Moments later, he reached the end, and steeled himself at the image before him._

_Before him rested a shattered man. Fragments of his body littered the area around him, exposing the hollow shell within. A gray trench-coat clothed the doll-like visage, as if to hide a dead man. Blond hair, golden like his own, flayed all over the ground. Half of the doll-like man's face had been shattered, leaving only a single, lifeless blue eye to stare back at him._

_As he ventured closer to the shattered man's body, the light around his body intensified. The pain soon followed, and before his very eyes, he watched as cracks appeared in the flesh of the shattered man. He back away from the figure, disturbed by the sight before him. A pained voice uttered from the doll's human-like mouth, and in that instant, the nameless man made a startling realization: it was the same voice that spoke his words._

_"It... hurts... make it... stop..."_

"What manner of **being** are you?" _the nameless man asked in response._

_The shattered man moaned in agony as a putrid substance spewed forth from his mouth. Inhuman screams soon followed, and despite the horrific scene before him, the nameless man stood his ground. As he tried to make sense of what was happening, a voice called out to him:_

_"Brent... time to wake up, Brent..."_


	6. iv

**Penance  
**-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

**DISCLAIMER:** The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.

iv

Mireille's eyes snapped open as a blood hurdling scream tore through the silence. The flame-like aura that surrounded the pair vanished. Startled by the horrid images presented to her, she pushed herself away from Link, only to fall backwards into the knee deep water around them. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaken by the Hero's memories.

"Jesus fucking _Christ_..."

The young woman found herself completely unprepared for the image of the shattered man. His broken face and lifeless eye haunted her, like a terrible omen of destruction that had suffocated her consciousness. She did not know who he was nor what he represented, yet the sheer magnitude of his decay further fueled her ambivalence towards the elf-like man.

Link stepped forward, his face cast in a grim expression. Concern filled his thoughts as he turned his attention to the young woman's reaction towards the first of many horrific memories he possessed of Brent Andrews. He watched as she looked back up at him, her eyes yearning for answers. Though the shock and surprise had sent her over the edge, it did little to deter the barrage of questions that followed.

_"What... __**was**__ that?" _Mireille asked. _"What just happened? Please tell me that wasn't real..."_

She trembled where she stood, shaken by the surreal memory. The shattered man's words clouded her thoughts, as did the sight of his body's accelerated decay. Mireille held her hands against her temples. Her mind attempted to banish the horrible images back from whence they came, and yet the images gripped her thoughts with daunting precedence.

Her mind drifted back to the memory of the night the Binding took place. The light that had surrounded her body was the same as the Hero's, and had surrounded them like a gentle aura. Yet in the presence of that broken shell of a man, it furthered his ruin. Mireille felt her dread grow as silence filled the air.

_"That was Brent... wasn't it?"_

Link let out a sigh as he watched tears well up in Mireille's eyes. There were no words that could assuage the young woman's fears. It was clear to him that the memory had caused his companion distress. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm the frightened girl down.

_"Brent did not survive the Binding, Mireille."_

As the words left Link's mouth, Mireille burst into tears. Though she had never met Brent before in her life, it was like watching someone pass away before her very eyes. The very thought that the Binding ritual had destroyed him left the young woman aghast. Despite the sobs that ebbed from her, Mireille's pleading gaze pierced Link's patient eyes as he continued.

_"He did not have the spiritual fortitude to survive the Binding... The moment my soul was plucked from the Comet of Aetherus and forced into Brent's body by Palmgate's device, he was condemned to spiritual decay. At the time, I did not know what to make of that memory myself."_

The Hero wiped away Mireille's tears with his left thumb as he continued.

_"I was not unscathed by Palmgate's machinations... when I awoke in your world, I was lost and without memory. The world I found myself in did not understand me, nor did I understand it. I was an outsider, pulled into a situation I was unprepared for. For months, they tried to analyze my fractured mind, but I could not- and cannot- understand their language."_

_"So... that's why you were prying into my head all those times... you can't understand anything anyone is saying because you don't know the language..."_

_"It was never my intent to intrude like that, but my hand was forced, milady..."_

Mireille looked away, crestfallen at his words. The teenager's feelings of guilt rose to the surface, joining with the whirlwind of emotion that swept through her being. In the face of the maelstrom that threatened to overwhelm her, she found herself at a loss of words. She watched as Link offered his hand to her. Despite this, she pushed herself out of the water and back onto her feet.

_"I... need to think..."_

_"I understand. When you are ready, you know where to find me."_

Without another word, Mireille made her way through the fog towards the lone island. A forlorn expression etched itself onto her face as her troubled thoughts compounded themselves in her mind. Before she could go very far, Link's voice stopped her.

_"Mireille... I'm sorry."_

The teenager said nothing as she paused to consider his words. A sigh escaped her lips. She made her way towards the tree without looking back. Music filled the air once again as a melancholic song pierced the fog around them.

* * *

Mireille stepped into the elevator, praying that her brief escapade would go unnoticed by all who resided in the shelter. She pushed the lift button and waited for the elevator to rise, dusting off her tunic as she did so. As she stared at the bloodied green garment that clothed her body, she felt a frown form on her lips. Before, she gazed at the otherworldly clothing with disdain; now, she found herself more unsure of what to think about them.

Her hand fiddled with the cuff of her thick leather gauntlets. The sound of pulleys echoed through the hall as the elevator ascended to the cavernous entrance above. Despite the loud noise of cables being pulled and gears grinding through the shaft, she stood still, silent and unflinching in the face of their rumbling. Mireille's gaze moved towards the lights above, her expression solemn and depressed.

The elevator came to a stop, and Mireille was greeted with the sight of the newly restored vault door. She recalled her battle to protect the survivors days ago. Even now, the series of events that brought her to this town felt unreal to her. The transformed woman walked over to the console nearby and began to open the door. With a loud grinding noise, the spokes of the door began to spin, and soon afterward, the door rolled away from the cavern walls, exposing the entrance to Brume's sanctuary.

Mireille said nothing as she made her way through the door. Moments after entering the stairway beyond, the door rolled closed. She winced at the loud noise it made, and when it was finished, she let out a heavy sigh. The chill of the stairway stabbed at her long, pointed ears even as she began her ascent into the power plant beyond. She surveyed the generators beyond, and marveled at their restored conditions.

_Wow... they repaired it that quick? That's some pretty impressive engineer work. Even Darren couldn't hold a candle to that..._

The thought of her friend further fueled her depression. She had not seen her friend since the night of her disappearance from Ashland. Mireille recalled her conversation with him on that fateful evening.

_'This isn't you, Mireille. What happened to the happy-go-lucky girl I used to know?'_

_'Darren... please... I can't take this anymore...'_

_'What can't you take? Are you scared of something?'_

_'I don't know what's going on anymore... ever since the night of that party, nothing in my life has made any sense...'_

_'What are you saying?'_

_'There's something inside me... and it wants out...'_

_I..._

Mireille stepped out into the endless fog beyond, her heart full of misgivings and uncertainties. Her boots clicked against the worn concrete, another testament to the forces that continued to ravage the town. She turned towards a nearby wall. It was not the first time she had come here; to her, this was one of the few quiet places left where she be left alone to her thoughts.

The transformed woman felt bad for leaving everyone alone in the shelter. Despite the fact that the black mist had dissipated in this portion of the town, they were far from safe. She knew this first hand in her attempts to protect the residents of the shelter. Their savagery was something the young woman had never witnessed before coming to Brume.

Her gaze shifted towards her hands. Up until now, she regarded their altered appearance with disgust and vehement disdain, a sign of the forces that had changed her. In the face of the recent events that consumed her life, she no longer knew what to make of the changes to her physical form.

_Link..._

The conversation she had with the Hero left her feeling uneasy. She still did not know what to make of the spirit that had become entwined with her. It was easy to call him a demon, a being from beyond who had stolen her body and altered it to suit his needs. Now... her viewpoint of the Hylian spirit was ruptured at its very core. She recalled his words to her moments ago:

_'Brent did not survive the Binding, Mireille.'_

_The light... the light was killing him, sapping is life away... Am I... going to become... like him?_

The light that had protected her from the black mist and the monsters it spawned had also eaten away at Brent's spirit, condemning him to ultimate destruction. When Link stepped towards the shattered remnants of Brent's spirit, the light within his own spirit furthered his decay. She shook her head.

_He... didn't know anything... he couldn't remember who or what he was. I guess... even heroes get scared sometimes. He only wanted... to understand... where he was... who he was... what his purpose was... and why he was here. ...I can't believe I'm even thinking these things right now..._

For the first time since encountering him, Mireille felt pity for Link. Unlike the present time, he did not have another mind with which to pull information from. He was truly lost and without a hand to hold. In the face of his previous circumstances, the teenager could not help but feel guilty towards her own behavior towards him. The young woman closed her eyes and held out her left hand.

A familiar light manifested in her hand, and when it faded, the shape of the Master Sword appeared. She held the blade up to her face and peered into her reflection. Blue eyes peered back at her in place of the green eyes she possessed moments before. The uncanny resemblance she physically bore with the Hero had terrified her; now, she was left confused and wanting answers. Mireille reflected on memories Link had shared moments before.

_'The Light... he does not possess the Light!'_

_How... did I survive? Why am I __**like**__ this? I don't understand... I don't understand _any _of this..._

She shook her head in frustration and pounded her fist against the concrete wall she sat on. Though the Hero's memories provided some of the answers she sought, it also spawned a thousand more questions. Despite the insight that had been provided to her, her heart remained full of misgivings towards the Hylian.

_If Link did not intend to destroy me... then what does he want with me? What purpose do I serve...?_

Mireille peered back at her reflection in the Master Sword's surface. It stared back at her, unable to provide the answers she so desperately sought. She knew of only one person who had those answers, and despite her ambivalence, she was going to find those answers one way or another. Finished with the weapon, she watched the Master Sword fade into light once more.

She pulled her legs up from the wall and reseated herself into a cross-legged position. The young woman moved her hands onto her legs. Mireille closed her eyes and began to take deep breaths. Her body relaxed, and within moments, the harsh reality of Brume faded around her.

When Mireille opened her eyes, she found herself back on the lone island once more. Gentle white mist blanketed the area, filling the air with a sense of peace. She ran her hand through her long brown locks, her original form restored. Mireille stepped towards the knee deep sea of water around her and called out into the fog.

_"Link!"_ Mireille sloshed her black leather boots in the waters around the island. _"Link, where are you?"_

Silence filled the air, leaving the young woman unnerved. She glanced around, searching for any sign of Link's presence. The endless fog obscured everything in sight, making it difficult to navigate. She waded towards the reeds beyond, hoping to find Link playing his ocarina there as he had done many times before.

When she reached the reeds, she found nothing. Minutes passed, and she grew more and more flustered at the lack of his presence. Mireille's search grew more and more fruitless, further fueling her anxiety. She made her way back to the lone island and sat at the foot of the tree, consumed by her worry.

As she sank onto the ground, she felt a small breeze blow through the misty denizen. Mireille breathed a sigh of relief. A familiar presence made itself known to her, assuaging her doubts. She turned to her right and found the face of Link peering back at her, like a phantom that had appeared out of nowhere that now sat by her side.

_"You seem troubled, milady."_

Mireille looked away, a sad expression forming on her face.

_"What you showed me... answered some of my questions, but others have sprouted in their place, Link. I... I have to know... if the Light was what killed Brent... then how did I survive the Binding? Why have I become like this? Am I going to end up like Brent?"_

The Hero shook his head in response and returned a reassuring gaze. Mireille's misgivings eased slightly, though she gazed back at him with uncertainty. Link sat up and walked towards the island's edge. His blue eyes peered back at her from over his left shoulder.

_"So you wish to know what separates you from your predecessor. Fair enough..."_

Link turned towards her and summoned the young woman. Eager to receive the answers she so craved, she followed suit. The Hylian man offered his hand to his companion. With nervous trepidation, she placed her hand in his own.

A strange feeling overcame Mireille as the familiar flame-like white aura surrounded them. It resonated between them, and she felt as though she were being invigorated. It was the same aura that had shielded her from the black mist, as well as the same light that had brought about Brent's decay. She pulled her hand away from Link, dismayed by the presence of the light around her.

_"This is what separates you from Brent, Mireille. When the Comet came to your world, it's light touched you as it had touched me. Brent... was incapable of using my power. My very presence within him only fueled his decay. His body, mind, and spirit could neither withstand my spirit nor utilize the strength I possess."_

Mireille shook her head, perturbed by this new information. Link pulled Mireille closer to him, his eyes full of urgency.

_"Come... there is more that I must show you."_

_"Alright..."_

The two of them held onto each other as memories entered Mireille's mind once more.

* * *

**Author's Note 5/13/2012:** This update is regarding the lack of faves/watches that are now on all of my stories. Tonight, I had to delete and restore all of my fanfictions due to a writer's refusal to remove my work from one of their C2 communities. I had very politely asked the writer in question, ZeldaRubix, to remove not only her shoutout to me in her profile, but to remove my work from her "Rubix's Recommendations" C2 community. Her response to my requests were to not only accuse me of flaming her using anonymous reviews when I had not done so, but refuse to comply with my request. As a result, I had to delete and restore all of my stories.

It is a shame this cost you your faves and watches, guys, but she had forced my hand. I am very sorry it had to come to this. I do not take well to being accused of things I haven't done, and I wanted to make you all aware of her actions as well so that you may all avoid her yourselves. It is a sad sight to see, when a writer becomes so paranoid that they accuse every person who talks to them of attacking them for no reason.

If you faved or watched one of my works, please re-fave and re-watch my works again. Thank you again for reading my works, and hopefully this will never happen again. I'm very sorry about this. I will be PMing individuals over the next day or so to get in touch and inform you of what has happened directly.


	7. v

**Penance  
**-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

**DISCLAIMER:** The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.

v

_What is this...?_ The nameless man thought as he stared at the television in front of him.

Incomprehensible words and images flew at him with lightning speed, and in the face of his predicament, only left him feeling even more lethargic. He turned his attention to the circular object hanging from the wall. It ticked a merciless hymn, counting the steady croach of time. Though the symbols on its face were just as alien to him, he surmised its purpose from its apparent function. Even then, he felt uncertain about his assumption.

He collapsed on the bed, tired of another day of trying to figure out the world around him. Between the torture of examination and the fruitless therapy, he found himself at a standstill. A part of him wanted to leave, for nothing these people did for him could better his understanding. He felt a tired yawn escape his lips.

The sound of a door opened, and the sad figures he had come to know entered the room. He sat up on the bed, not wanting to hurt the feelings of the couple that had been kind enough to visit him during his stay at the hospital. Trailing behind them was a doctor, a figure the young man had come to loathe. A part of him felt his resentment towards their repeated operations on his body as well as their examinations, while another realized they were only trying to help. Out of respect to the couple before him, he remained silent.

"How are you today, Brent? The doctors are saying you're getting better, and that you might be able to come home soon..."

The nameless man cocked his head at her, unable to understand the words she spoke. He felt his frustration grow at his inability to communicate with the world around him. If any progress had been made in helping him, he did not see it. Though he only looked at her with confusion, the woman smiled at him anyway.

Behind her, the doctor stepped forward, clearing his throat before speaking.

"His temperament has improved remarkably over the past few weeks, Mrs. Andrews, though we still have not been able to find the cause of his irregular speech. We've also not been able to pinpoint the cause of your son's amnesia. Your son is not able to understand English, or any other language we've spoken to him with. To be frank, your son's case is unlike any I've seen."

She turned to him, dismayed by his words.

"What are you saying? That my son... can't understand anything we're saying?"

"I'm afraid so. Our speech therapists have been unable to help him. At this point, it would take months, even years, of speech therapy to rehabilitate him, if that would even help at all."

The older man turned towards the doctor, livid at his statement. Even from where he rested, the nameless man could see his face redden in anger at his words. Feelings of guilt welled up inside him, and he felt as though he had done something wrong. Though he could not understand their words directly, he could sense all too well what their argument was about.

_"How can you say that about our son?! We don't pay you to poke and prod him all day so you can tell us you're unable to help him!"_

"Mr. Andrews, I understand how frustrated you must feel, but I can tell you that your son is an incredibly bright young man. We have been able to communicate with him to some level, though nothing vocal. Your son can understand body language as well as the tone of your voice. He may not be able to understand us now... but with time, he _can_ be taught to speak again."

The doctor's words left Mrs. Andrews feeling emotional. Though the thought of not being able to communicate with their child was disheartening, the doctor's words left with some hope. Untold worry forced its way to the surface within the couple as the nameless man looked on, saddened by what was happening before his eyes.

_Why? Why must they do this? I'm tired of listening to this fighting... how do I get them to stop?_

"Is he able to come home with us?" Mrs. Andrews asked.

The doctor let out a sigh.

"I cannot stop you if that is your wish, but I would advise you to get the young man to a speech therapist as soon as possible. Without continued care, his condition will only worsen. While he hasn't shown any manic or suicidal tendencies, I cannot rule out the possibility such an instance could occur, Mrs. Andrews. You've reported that he's never been clinically depressed, though we cannot be sure how this trauma has affected him."

Mr. and Mrs. Andrews turned to each other, their eyes communicating more than their words ever could.

"My husband and I need a few minutes alone... to discuss this."

"Of course."

The trio left the room, and the nameless man was finally able to doze off in peace.

* * *

For what seemed like hours, he laid there in blissful, dreamless sleep. It was not until the sensation of being shaken aroused the him from slumber. Clouded blue eyes gazed up into the soft brown of a nurse as she brought in a tray of food. The nurse let out a soft laughter at his reaction to her presence.

"Here you are! Eat up while it's hot, Mr. Andrews!"

He gazed back at the nurse with a confused expression on his face, in spite of the perky demeanor she now carried towards him. The smell of a warm meal tore him from her gaze, its alluring aroma beckoning him. He stared at his food, listless and groggy from his nap. Steam rose from the bowl of soup in front of him, and without further word, he lifted the nearby spoon on the tray and began to sip at soup.

The food was unimpressive, but it was palatable to him. He did not know why he felt that way towards the meager meal in front of him. A part of him felt that he had known something much better where ever he was originally from. The nameless man shook his head in confusion, his mind churning the conflicting emotions that ran through him.

_From...? From... where?_

As he ate his meal, the nurse turned and walked out of the room, leaving the nameless man alone with his latest question among questions. He probed his hazy mind, searching for an answer to the newest inquiry that pervaded his thoughts. Finishing his soup, he pushed the tray away from his bed.

Once more, he was alone with his thoughts. The nameless man closed his eyes in boredom, hoping that blissful sleep would claim him. Before he could drift away back to sleep, the sound of the door creaking open jarred him awake. He looked up at the couple that had visited his room hours before and blinked in confusion.

"Come on, Brent. It's time to come home with us," Mr. Andrews said.

He motioned for the nameless man to follow. The nameless man looked back at his hand, confused by the strange gestures he was making. Mr. Andrews turned to his wife, who handed the nameless man a plastic bag. At first, the teenager stared at the bag, bewildered at their actions. He opened the bag and found a set of clothes inside.

Eager to leave the drab hospital clothing that had garbed him since his awakening, he looked up at them and smiled in gratitude. He nodded in understanding and watched them turn away as he changed. Like everything else that had greeted him, the clothing was strange to him. A part of him had never felt the strange, blue fabric that made up the pair of jeans that had been given to him, and he was confused by their textures.

The shirt, too, was also a mystery to him, covered in strange designs and logos he could not read or comprehend. He quickly slipped out of the hospital gown and into his new clothing, reveling in their strange comfort. The nameless man turned towards the strangers in front of him and cocked his head as they turned around.

_"Why did you give me this?"_ he asked. _"Are you taking me somewhere?"_

Mrs. Andrews smiled at him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as she smiled at him.

"Home," she replied. "Let's go home, my son..."

The nameless man blinked in further confusion, unable to understand her words. Though her tone was kind and thoughtful, the alien tongue that escaped her lips evaded him. A part of him felt frustrated at his inability to communicate with her, and wondered what it was she was truly saying to him. Wanting to understand her, he opened his mouth and mimicked her words.

"Ho... me?"

Mrs. Andrew's eyes beamed, astonished by the word that left his mouth. It was as though she were witnessing her son say his first words all over again. She held his hand as they walked out of the room as a family. The nameless man watched the nurses make their rounds throughout the hospital, unsure of what was happening. He followed his family through the lobby and out of the hospital.

For the first time in days, he was allowed to leave the building that had been his prison since his awakening. The nameless man's heart leapt with joy, eager to leave and explore the alien world around him in finer detail. Mr. and Mrs. Andrews walked towards a station wagon and watched the teenager stare at it as though it were an alien creature.

The outer doors and frame of the car were a deep hunter green, while a black interior decorated the inside of the car. A sunshade rested in front of the windshield, blocking the afternoon sun from the interior of the car. The nameless man cocked his head, trying to make sense out of the strange object in front of him. Mr. Andrews felt an awkward smile form on his face as he reached for the car door and motioned for his child to enter.

He looked back at Mr. Andrews, his eyes looking into the older man's for an answer to the mystery before him. He smiled in understanding at the young man he called his son and opened the car door.

"Car," he said to his son, "This is our car."

"Car...?"

The nameless man tested the word on his tongue. It felt strange flowing through his mouth, like an exotic food he had never sampled before. He peered into the strange contraption, rubbing his fingers against the soft leather. The nameless man felt his curiosity compel him inward as he stepped into the car. Before he could get very far, Mr. Andrews stopped him. He pulled out a seat belt from behind and buckled him in.

Mr. and Mrs. Andrews opened the front doors of the car. As he watched them seat and buckle themselves up for their journey home, he felt his eyes dart around, taking in the strange sights around him. The sound of the engine roaring to life jarred him, sending goosebumps down his skin. It was as though a terrible demon had awakened within the vehicle.

Like a panicked child, he clung to the seating around him, unsure of what was happening around him. He watched the car begin to move and pull away. Before long, the family made their way out of the parking lot and out into the roads beyond. The sight of the world moving so quickly around him made the nameless man feel dizzy.

As the car sped away, he cursed at the devilish machine he had found himself trapped in. He swerved and whirled where he sat, unable to understand what was going on.

_What is this?! What horrible contraption is this?! How do I get out of here?!_

His stomach churned, and the nameless man felt his nausea rise. As he felt his panic begin to rise, he watched Mrs. Andrews turn towards him from her seat in front of him.

"It's okay, Brent... we're almost home... please just calm down..."

He closed his eyes, praying to whatever deity was listening that the madness he found himself in would stop. What felt like hours later, the car slowed and came to a stop. Mrs. Andrews unbuckled herself and moved to help the nameless man unbuckle the seat belt that had restrained him. Free from the torture that had been inflicted upon him, the nameless man quickly opened the car door and heaved on the pavement outside.

Mrs. Andrews let out a sigh, helping her son off the ground and cleaning the leftover bile off of his mouth. She let out a small smile at him as he motioned towards the house in front of her.

"Welcome home, Brent Andrews."


	8. vi

**Penance  
**-A Junctioner: Hylianis Story-

**DISCLAIMER:** The Legend of Zelda, and all related characters, places, concepts, ect., mentioned within are property of Nintendo and Shigeru Miyamoto. All other original concepts presented within are property of me, myself, and I.

vi

_Brent... I am... Brent...?_

Hours had passed since the teenager's reunion with his "family". The celebration of his homecoming had long since died down, and Mr. and Mrs. Andrews had long since fallen asleep. In the deafening silence that had filled the darkness of their house, he found himself gazing back at his own haggard reflection. Clouded blue eyes stared back at him in the mirror, echoing the confusion that had enveloped his very soul.

From the white tiles that lined the bathroom to the larger beige tiles that made up the floor, everything in this room was strange to him. Toothbrushes, cups, and toothpaste rested on either side of the sink, while small washcloths hung on the wall nearby. Something was not right about his reflection; it was as though he were staring into a face that was not his own, a grotesque mask covering a face that was lost to the abyss of his memory.

_Is that... who I really am?_

Brent frowned as he gingerly touched his ears. The sensation of his fingers tracing the edges of his ears made him gasp in shock. His mind and his body where in conflict, as if he were missing something where his ears should have been. He grasped at his mind, searching for answers to the questions that plagued his soul since he first awakened at the hospital. The teenager felt like a stranger- a stranger to his family, to his home, and to the very face he gazed at..

_This is not right... this is not right at all! Why... why do I-_

Before he could do anything else, a throbbing pain shot through his left hand. He held his hand in pain, confused by the burning sensation that enveloped the back of his hand. It was as though something had placed burning hot metal against his skin. As he struggled to grasp what was happening to him, he glanced at the back of his hand from out of the corner of his eye.

Shimmering like a holy brand was the mark of three triangles, arranged to form a larger one. The lower right triangle shone the brightest, consuming him in its brilliance. In that instant, he felt his strength begin to wane; it was as though what remained of his vitality were being drained from his very being. He collapsed onto the floor and struggled to breathe.

Just as suddenly as the attack began, it ended. The mark faded away as though it never existed. Only a faint outline remained imprinted onto his skin, a subtle, darker patch of skin that was difficult to spot without a careful eye. Brent gulped in the air around him, winded from his strange experience.

He pulled himself back onto his feet and wiped the sweat that had somehow accumulated on his face. Brent felt even more withered and tired than he ever had before. His gaze shifted away from his weary face and back to his left hand. He studied the mark and felt a strange sense of familiarity towards it, as though it were a long lost aspect of his past made manifest.

_"What is this...?"_

His tone was curious and full of wonder. For the first time since awakening into the alien world around him, he felt a stirring within him, a piece of his missing past having finally pierced the fog that enveloped his conscious memory. He did not know what the mark was, or what it represented, but somehow, he felt whatever past he may have had was tied to the faint sigil on his hand.

_This symbol... I... I know it from somewhere..._

Brent shook his head, unable to understand what was going on. As lethargy began to manifest once more, he silently turned off the light to the bathroom and made his way through the darkened halls of the Andrews household. He made his way to a doorway at the end of the hallway and opened the door. A mid-sized bedroom greeted his eyes.

Posters full of strange figures and words lined the walls of the room, while a small desk remained tucked away in the furthest corner of the room. Like everything else in his home, it was covered in devices he had never seen before. A part of him felt he should have known what some of these things were, while another remained ever distant from the world around him. The strangest contraption of all was a small lamp that rested on his nightstand.

Unlike the other lamps in the home, this one glowed a blue hue while white globs floated up and down throughout the lamp. It was like staring into a surreal dream. With a flick of a switch, he shut the lamp off. He collapsed onto the messy, plaid-colored covers of his bed and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Lightning pierced the layer of black clouds above as the sound of thunder tore through the air. Like an omen of doom, the heavens raged as torrential rainfall poured onto the ground below. Brent held a gloved hand to his pointed ears in an effort to drown out the painful noise. His hat and tunic clung to his body, drenched by the chaotic weather around him. As pain surged through every part of his being, he staggered to his feet._

_To his surprise, the sight of his current form in his reflection filled him with a sense of ease. In place of the confused teenager was the valiant form he took on in his sleep. Brent had little time to ponder his transformation as an eerie white light surrounded his body. He cried out in agony, unable to resist the anguish that gnawed at his body._

What is this? What is happening to me?!

_Screams tore though the thunderous cacophony. He limped forward, searching for the source of the noise. Off into the distance came the limp figure of the shattered man. Brent watched in horror as cracks raced through the shattered man's body. Before his very eyes, Brent watched as the shattered man's right hand crumbled to dust. _

_"Stay... away...," the shattered man wailed, "Stay away... from my... family!"_

_Brent shook his head in confusion._

"I don't understand. What are you trying to say?"

_More cracks sped through the shattered man's face as he babbled incoherently, unable to move his body._

_"Make it stop... it's... killing me..."_

_Brent closed his eyes, feeling his frustration at his inability to communicate growing. He felt his own vitality waning, as if in reflection of the shattered man's grotesque condition. He was unable to think and unable to concentrate, a sad testament to the lethargy that had become a staple of his existence. As he fell onto his knees, a light pierced the darkness._

_He looked up at the eerie light, like a beacon that beckoned him forward. It glowed with the same eerie radiance as the aura around him, as though they were one and the same. Mesmerized by the light, he pulled himself onto his feet and staggered toward the light. The scene shifted around him to a small neighborhood._

_Rain continued to pour down onto the desolate streets as white fog obscured everything in sight. Homes lined the neighborhood, darkened in the oncoming night. As Brent's eyes scanned the dreary scene before him, he spotted one home that showed signs of life. A figure bathed in light stepped into the growing darkness._

_The light around Brent flared up in resonance, as if sensing a long lost partner. Before he could get a better look at the figure, the world began to fade into blackness. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as blackened monsters attacked the light. The light pulled out a terrible weapon of its own- a weapon Brent had never seen before. It let out a thunderous cacophony of its own as the monsters were blown back by its sheer power._

_As the unstable world around him shifted and turned, a voice pierced the air._

"Brother..."

_Brent perked up in surprise. For the first time since his awakening, words he understood filled the air. Off into the distant darkness, he spied a radiant red light. There was a familiarity to the gentle voice that filled the air, as though a dear companion were speaking to him. As Brent stood there in confusion, the voice called out again._

"Brother Link..."

* * *

Brent bolted forward, gulping in the around him in quick, shallow breaths. Beads of sweat dripped down his face as he held his head in his hand. He shook his head in an attempt to regain his focus. His tired mind attempted to understand the vision that had come to him in his sleep.

_The shattered man..._

He looked outside the window, watching the sun rise off into the distance. With a tired grunt, he pulled himself away from his bed and towards the window. The image of the pulsing light filled his mind as he gazed into the horizon beyond. He felt a stirring within his heart- a purpose left unfulfilled.

Brent let out a sigh and shook his head. There were so many things he did not understand, and many things he wanted to understand. He felt incomplete, as though something had been torn from his very being. The longing to be whole filled him with a sense of urgency. As his eyes gazed around the room, a sadness crept over him.

_Is this truly my life? Are the people around me truly my family? Just... who am I?_

His thoughts then turned to the voice that beckoned him in his dream. In a world that he did not understand, it was the only thing he understood. Yet its words haunted him, like a memory of his forgotten past that longed to be made known. Brent closed his eyes and shook his head.

_Who is "Brother Link"...?_

The name resonated with him, as though it were more personal to him than the name he had been given by the Andrews family. He felt his frustration grow at the incongruous information that had been presented to him over the past several days. Just when he felt he was beginning to regain some form of identity, the night had shattered any semblance of one away, leaving him more lost than ever. Only one thing was certain to him- he knew the voice that had spoken to him in his sleep. Between the stirring he felt in his heart and the premonitions that had come to him in his sleep, the amnesiac found himself at an impasse.

_I cannot stay here. I feel as though I am living a painful lie... why have these people brought me here? Who are they?_

Between the thousands of questions that now filled his mind, one drowned out all others, and demanded an answer:

_"Who am I?"_

* * *

The sound of luggage being thrown out a door tore Brent from his musings, as did the sound of Mrs. Andrews shouting. He let out a sigh as he watched the events below. Mrs. Andrews threw possessions and objects out the front door, followed by an older man. While Brent was pleased at the sight of the man's departure from their household, he could not help but pity the latest unfortunate man to come into their home and "counsel" him.

Many weeks had passed since Brent had returned to the Andrews household. In that time, the young man felt as though he had become a prisoner in his own home, unable to leave for reasons only his family knew. Despite the misgivings he felt about the family that had welcomed him back into their lives, he continued to stay in hopes of learning more about the world around him. The language barrier separated him from the rest of the household; though he did not understand their words, he understood their desire to protect and give him the help he needed.

This help came in the form of strange men that had been invited into their home to live with them. Though Brent did not know of the condition of their staying, he knew it had something to do with him. At that point, it had become just like the rounds of psychiatrists he had been forced to speak with at the hospital. Like those very same occasions, his sessions with the live-in doctors had gone nowhere. Mr. and Mrs. Andrews grew furious at these men who could not help him. The man outside of his home was the latest in the line of failures, and was dealing with the full brunt of Mrs. Andrews' anger.

"W-what are you doing?!" The therapist shouted.

He was older, his hair balding and turning an light shade of gray. Brown eyes peered into angry blue as an exasperated expression formed on his face. His suit had been haphazardly put on, full of wrinkles from the previous night. The man's shoes, clothing, and other possessions laid scattered across the pavement. Brent sensed that the man that had been trying to help him up to this point was doing everything in his power to remain cool in the face of his mother's rage.

"Get out of my house!" She shouted at the man, "I've had enough of your lies!"

"Ma'am, whatever is afflicting your son is beyond my ability to cure! He needs constant, twenty four hour care! He needs to go back to a hospital!"

"My son isn't spending another minute at another one of those godforsaken hospitals! If you can't help him, I'll find somebody that will!"

"Ma'am, we have a contract-"

**"Screw you and your contract! You're ****_fired!_****"**

"Wait, wait please!"

Mrs. Andrews stormed off inside the house, slamming the door behind her. The man ran towards the door, only to hear the sound of the door locking. He knocked on the door, a look of resigned worry on his face. Brent shook his head in dismay, flabbergasted by his mother's behavior. Moments later, the front door swung open as Mrs. Andrews stepped outside one last time.

She beheld a sheet of paper in front of the man, dangling it in front of him as though it were something important.

"Here's your contract!"

She began ripping the sheet of paper apart. The older woman scattered the scraps of paper through the air, their purpose now meaningless. The man gazed back at her with wide eyes as he scrambled to catch the pieces of paper. As the last shreds of the document were scattered the winds, she sneered at him one last time.

"Now get lost!"

Her final pronouncement left the therapist reeling as she stormed back into the house one last time, fuming. Brent pulled himself away from the window, not wanting to watch what was going on any longer. Sadness filled his heart, his frustration at his helplessness growing. The stirring in his heart only continued to pull at him; whatever destiny he had, it was not here, trapped inside this house.

_I have to leave this place somehow... If I do not, I will lose my mind..._


End file.
